


hands on you

by seekingsquake



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Ninjas, Blow Jobs, Discord: Umino Hours, M/M, Post-Break Up, Rimming, Sexual Tension, Slice of Life, Stalking, but what do we expect from a shit like Mizuki?, there's a teensy bit of slut-shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27171754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingsquake/pseuds/seekingsquake
Summary: They haven’t seen or spoken to each other since that night they almost hooked up, and Iruka knows it was less than a month ago, but it feels like it could have been a lifetime, and he’s a little surprised that Genma still remembers his name.Genma snags a bottle out of the fridge and then leans up against the stove, across from where Iruka is perched on the counter. “How’ve you been?”“Um.” He really wants to, like, get the cheese dust off his hand, but he doesn’t want to wipe it on his pants, and he really doesn’t want to lick his fingers. He kind of scoots the bowl of Cheetos off his lap and keeps his hand awkwardly away from himself. “Good! Good. Just trudging through, you know?” He winces. “How about you?”He shouldn’t be able to tell because he’s kinda drunk, and Genma is a stranger, but he could swear that Genma is looking at him kind of fondly.Iruka and his boyfriend break up, and Kotetsu tries to set him up with a guy from work.
Relationships: Shiranui Genma/Umino Iruka, background Hagane Kotetsu/Kamizuki Izumo, past Mizuki/Umino Iruka - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 67





	hands on you

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Umino Hours Discord server's 1st anniversary! The prompt was fake dating, but I didn't end up... doing that. 
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [jessicamiriamdrew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicamiriamdrew); any remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> Title from Hands On You by DALES

Kotetsu knocks back a shot, looks across the bar, and grimaces. He nudges Izumo in the ribs with his elbow, then nods in the direction of his gaze and grimaces harder. 

“Iruka,” Izumo says seriously, a little too drunk to properly convey the gravity of the situation, “don’t look now, but—”

Iruka turns on his barstool to try to follow Kotetsu’s gaze. “What is it?”

“I said, ‘don’t look now’!” Izumo hisses, grabbing Iruka by the chin and turning him back around. “Don’t freak, but Mizuki’s in a booth with some chick. I think we should get out of here before he sees us. Ko, call an Uber.”

The three of them have been at the bar, drinking ridiculous-looking cocktails and eating greasy appetizers, for almost three hours. They haven’t gotten this rowdy in public since they were 19 or 20. Still, the gravity of Iruka’s heartbreak had called for a disruption of the carefully crafted, responsible reputations they’ve spent the last five years building for themselves. Kotetsu fumbles in his crossbody bag for his cellphone, but Iruka flags the bartender for another round of shots.

He very carefully schools his face and doesn’t look behind him. “I’m not leaving my favourite bar early, when I’m out with my best friends, just because some asshole just happens to also be here.” He pushes a shot in front of Izumo, then Kotetsu, and knocks his back, slamming the shot glass back down on the bar with more force than necessary. Izumo hesitantly shoots his, and Kotetsu spills his on himself while still trying to find his phone.

Iruka won’t look back to see what Mizuki’s up to, but Izumo can’t help but survey the situation again. A mistake, because he accidentally makes eye contact with the bastard.

“911,” Izumo yelps, scrambling to make sure he has all his shit.

“Cops?” Kotetsu asks, suddenly more alert than he has been in the whole last hour.

“We need to go  _ now,” _ Izumo insists, but Iruka doesn’t move.

Mizuki gets up from his table and snakes through the crowd in their direction, and he’s got that cocky fucking smirk on his face. There’s only so many ways this interaction can go, and Izumo would like to avoid a fistfight since he has a meeting in the morning. “Ru, Ko, please, let’s get out of here.”

“Hey, boys, fancy seeing you here.”

Immediately, Kotetsu is trying to get between Iruka and Mizuki, but his balance is a little off, so he’s more just... standing beside them.

Mizuki is so close his chest is almost right up against Iruka’s back. Iruka doesn’t look, but his whole body is visibly tense. “Trying to see if you can pick up someone better than me, Ruka? Because we both know you won’t be able to. But you’re more than welcome to join Tsubaki and me for a little fun if you’re feeling lonely.”

Izumo grabs the back of Mizuki’s blazer and tugs him away, and Iruka slowly turns on his stool. “Go back to your girlfriend, Mizuki,” Iruka says. His voice is measured and nearly stoic, but he’s drunk, and Izumo can see tears gathering at the corner of his eyes.

“We’re leaving,” Izumo snarls, pushing Mizuki back another step. “Leave it alone.”

“C’mon, Zumo, don’t be like that. We’re all friends here, right?” He’s slick as ever, with a false cheer painted over the jagged edges that they all now know is there.

“No, we’re not. Goodbye.” Izumo pushes Mizuki again, firmer, then grabs at Iruka and starts ushering him out. Kotetsu throws a handful of bills onto the bar before following, making sure to knock Mizuki with his shoulder as he passes. Together the three of them make for the door, but they can hear Mizuki chuckling behind them.

A gust of cold wind blasts them as they get to the street, and Izumo tugs Iruka into a fierce hug. Kotetsu fumbles in his bag then manages to pull out his phone. “Wanna take the train home? I think I left... too much money inside.”

They’re only a couple of blocks from Waterfront station, and taking the train would give them a bit more time to make sure Iruka’s settled, emotionally. “As long as everyone promises not to throw up in public, I’m good. Iruka?”

Iruka nods against Izumo’s shoulder, and after a beat passes, he pulls away. He rubs his hands over his face, then sighs. “Gimme my shit, please.”

Kotetsu pulls Iruka’s phone and wallet from his bag and hands them over, and then the three of them head down the street.

When they get on the train, Iruka slumps in his seat, his head on Izumo’s shoulder. Kotetsu sits across from them, and he pulls Izumo’s feet up onto his lap. “What an asshole,” he mutters, his hands wrapped around Izumo’s ankles.

Iruka huffs and tries to blink away a wave of tears. “I should have seen it coming.”

“Ru, don’t,” Izumo murmurs as he throws his arm across Iruka’s shoulders. “You couldn’t have known.”

“You guys never liked him, though,” Iruka mutters miserably as he fiddles with a loose strand of fabric hanging from the rip in the knee of his jeans. “And now he’s, like, fucking blowing up my phone and shit.”

“Wait; what? Really?”

“Yeah, he’s texted me, like, every day since I kicked him out. I wouldn’t be surprised if he showed up tonight just because he knew we’d be there.”

Izumo frowns. “How would he even know that, though?”

“Ko tagged us at the bar on Facebook.”

Izumo and Kotetsu glance at each other, bewildered. “Really, dude?”

“I didn’t know we were dealing with a stalker! Jeez.”

“It’s fine,” Iruka cuts in, sounding exhausted. “I’m probably just going to go dark for a little while. Stay offline and keep my text notifications off or something. I don’t know. I just don’t know why he feels the need to contact me when he’s already replaced me. Like. Shouldn’t he be too busy or something?”

“Just ignore him,” Kotetsu says, one of his hands moving from Izumo’s ankle to Iruka’s knee. “And if he keeps giving you trouble, let us know. I know a bunch of the security guards at city hall; I can see if they have any advice.”

“Yeah, okay.”

They don’t say anything else for the rest of the ride, Iruka closing his eyes and Izumo and Kotetsu just looking at each other until the train pulls up at Joyce-Collingwood. “Text me when you get inside,” Izumo calls, but Iruka just steps off the train without looking back.

✽✽✽

Ko: There’s a work party thing happening at the Bottleneck on sat and Zu can’t come. Wanna be my +1?

Iru: I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but I don’t work with you, nor am I your boyfriend

Ko: Wow I actually did know both of those things! But I thought it might be fun for you to get away from your usual haunts and meet some new people

Iru: I’m not sure it’s a good time to meet new people tbh

Ko: It’s always a good time. Also a couple of the dudes on the security team are 😝 🔥 and god knows you could use a rebound

Iru: You’re a menace

Ko: You in tho? ‘Cause I will come over beforehand and dress you up so that everyone will be eating out of your hands the second we get there

Iru: I won’t be home til like 6

Ko: 👌 see you there bby mwah

✽✽✽

“Izumo says hi, and he loves you,” Kotetsu shouts as he enters the apartment and kicks his shoes off. “Also, he told me to tell you that if you don’t get any tonight, it’s because I’m a bad wingman, and it doesn’t have anything to do with how perfect you are.” Iruka laughs from his bedroom down the hall, where the door is open. Kotetsu grabs a beer from the fridge before making his way to the bedroom. He knocks on the doorframe before going in and perching on the end of the bed amongst a pile of shirts. 

Iruka is standing in front of his closet, his hands on his hips and scowling. “If I don’t get any tonight, it’ll be because I haven’t needed to look hot in, like, four years. I don’t have anything to wear.”

Kotetsu sips his beer and paws through the clothes on the bed, looking and discarding each item. “Damn, dude. Mizuki really tried to make you invisible. There’s so much fucking  _ beige  _ here.”

“Right? Like, where’s all my party shit? What happened to all the clothes I used to wear to Celebrities?” Iruka pulls a black v-neck t-shirt off a hanger, examines it, and hangs it on the closet door handle. “Is it cold out?”

“Nah, you should be good in whatever. You’d look killer in those cutoffs. You still have that leather moto jacket?”

Iruka looks over his shoulder at Kotetsu and quirks a brow. “You want me to wear cutoffs to your work thing?”

“It’s casual, no worries. I’m just going like this.” Kotetsu uses the beer bottle to indicate himself, wearing ripped jeans and a t-shirt over combat boots and his new favourite accessory— a fanny pack strapped diagonally over his chest, pretending to be anything other than what it is. “Besides, it’s not actually a work event. It’s just a bunch of people from the office getting drinks. You’ll fit right in.”

✽✽✽

The Bottleneck is busy, as is usual for a Friday. Iruka follows closely as Kotetsu winds through the crowd, heading for a large group at the back, clustered around two or three tables pushed together. People call out in greeting as they approach, and a couple of different voices ask after Izumo. Kotetsu greets everyone enthusiastically as he bullies Iruka into a spot near the middle of the group. He’s beside a guy with hair just a little longer than chin-length, held out of his face by a bandana over his head. 

Almost immediately, Kotetsu and the guy make eye contact, and then Kotetsu is gone, chatting with some people as far away from Iruka as he can get.

“Just got outta a break-up, huh?” the guy asks casually. When Iruka quirks a brow and frowns at him, he shrugs, and the toothpick in his mouth bobs. “He might have mentioned something about it the other day.”

Iruka looks him up and down, then grins and shakes his head. “You’re... on the security team?”

“That’s me. I’m Genma.” He holds his hand out to Iruka, and they shake. 

“Iruka. If Kotetsu didn’t already tell you that, too.”

“Surprisingly, he didn’t say anything else. Not as much of a gossip as he pretends to be, eh?”

Iruka laughs because it’s true. “He’s always been my secret keeper, that’s for sure.”

Kotetsu may not be a gossip, but he is a social butterfly. He leaves Iruka alone with Genma for almost two hours, and though it usually would piss Iruka off, he doesn’t mind. In fact, he’s hardly even noticed. Genma is charismatic, charming, and just as attractive as Kotetsu had implied. He’s also quite funny. The two of them have been talking and flirting easily, in their own little world. And Genma is attentive, which is a change.

Iruka’s relationship with Mizuki had lasted four years, and by the end, Iruka felt like he was alone, even with Mizuki right beside him. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to have someone show an interest in him or to be the centre of anyone’s attention. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Kotetsu slurs as he slides into Iruka’s lap. “Everyone is leaving. I hav’ta go home. You coming?” 

Genma’s hand is on the table, his pinky finger just brushing against Iruka’s. They make eye contact for a moment, and Genma dips his head, just barely hiding a grin. Iruka squeezes Kotetsu around the waist but says, “I think I might stay out a while. Is Izumo coming to get you?”

Kotetsu mumbles, “Raidō’s driving me.” Then he turns his attention to Genma. “You take care ’a him, okay? He’s my buddy.”

“I got it,” Genma says seriously. Then Kotetsu gets up and wanders to where the group has clustered by the door. A few people call out to Genma, but he waves them off. Once everyone from their group has filtered outside, Genma turns his attention back to Iruka. “You were saying something about trying to find new active learning methods for your class?” He also flags a server for another round of drinks, and Iruka feels giddy.

“You know, I just got out of a relationship, and I’m not looking for anything serious, but,” he brushes his fingers over the skin of Genma’s wrist and looks at him through lowered eyelashes. “I’m up for a little bit of fun back at my place, if you’re interested?”   


Genma snags Iruka’s hand and twines their fingers together, but otherwise, his only reply is a dirty smirk.

✽✽✽

They’re halfway back to Iruka’s apartment, sober enough to avoid stumbling but drunk enough to keep getting distracted by lips and hands when Iruka shivers. He stops walking abruptly and turns, staring hard into the darkness the way they came. There’s no one else on the street, but it isn’t quiet. There’s music from the bars, and people are talking and smoking on the apartment balconies. They’ve stopped in front of a hole in the wall, grungy convenience store and the fluorescent light from inside spills out the windows and lights the pavement around Iruka’s feet. 

“What is it?” Genma asks, immediately on alert.

“...Nothing,” Iruka murmurs, still looking around. “I thought I heard something.”

But before he can turn back around and tuck himself into Genma’s side, Mizuki comes sauntering out of the store with his hands in his pockets.

“Oh, look what we have here,” he sneers. Then he glances over Iruka’s shoulder, and his whole face darkens. “You got a new friend, Ru?”

“Who’s this, Iruka?” Genma asks calmly, moving to stand at Iruka’s side. 

“Nobody,” Iruka says, but he isn’t sure if he’s talking to Mizuki or Genma. He wants to fight and scream and give Mizuki a piece of his mind, but also...

He was never scared of Mizuki when they were together. He hadn’t been happy near the end, and he wasn’t surprised when he found out that Mizuki had a girlfriend on the side, but he’d never been afraid. And then they broke up, and Mizuki started acting out in a way that Iruka didn’t recognize.

He was calling and texting at all hours of the day, and he would swing between begging to be allowed to come back and threatening to hurt himself, to hurt Iruka. He showed up at Iruka’s elementary school during lunch hour with flowers, and then again at Iruka’s gym to cause a scene. Looking at Mizuki now, Iruka can’t even remember how he had never been afraid.

He wants to fight, but mostly he wants to run.

Suddenly Mizuki lunges, reaching to grab at Iruka. Iruka sees it happening in slow motion but can’t make himself react, and then Genma is somehow between them. He gets Mizuki to the ground in the blink of an eye and pins him there. “I don’t think my friend appreciates being approached like that. Are we gonna have a problem?”

Mizuki struggles then goes still. Genma lets him up, then wipes his hands on his jeans. “Run along home now.” He turns to Iruka and dips his head back in the direction they’d been walking before they stopped. “Ready to go?”

Together they head towards Iruka’s apartment, but Iruka is spooked. He looks over his shoulder to see Mizuki, who is still standing in the light of the convenience store, his face hidden by shadow.

“I’ve got my eye on you, Ruka!” he shouts, and Iruka shudders.

Genma drops his arm around Iruka’s shoulders and tucks him close, and they keep walking in silence. They don’t speak again until they get to Iruka’s building. “That was your ex?”

“Yeah. Look, I know I invited you over, and you walked me all the way here, but I don’t think I—”

“It’s okay,” Genma says. He tucks a strand of Iruka’s hair behind his ear, then smiles softly, his toothpick bobbing between his lips. “Another time. See you around, Iruka.”

Iruka watches Genma walk down the street until he turns the corner. Then he heads inside, shaking. When he checks his phone, there’s only one text message. 

M: Slut

Iruka hides his phone in his couch cushions, then curls up in bed and cries.

✽✽✽

When Iruka wakes up, his whole face feels stiff and tight, and his apartment smells like bacon. There are soft footsteps in the hall, and then the bedroom door creaks open. Izumo pokes his head in, whispering, “Iruka?”

Iruka sniffles and Izumo walks into the room fully and crawls into the bed, wrapping his friend up in a big hug. “Genma texted me last night and told me what happened. Ko’s hungover, so I left him at home to sleep it off. You okay?”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand. Mizuki was never like this before.”

Izumo knocks his head against Iruka’s and sighs. “What, you mean possessive and controlling? Hate to break it to you, but yes, he was. He just didn’t have to work so hard to get you to do what he wanted when you were still dating. Now he’s pissed because he's not getting what he wants, so he’s throwing a tantrum.”

There’s a sliver of grey light on the wall, slipping in from where the blackout curtains were left partially open. It hasn’t been sunny for nearly two weeks. Iruka has no idea what time it is, but he feels exhausted as if he didn’t sleep. He must have, though, because he doesn’t remember being awake through the night. He curls tighter into his bedspread and tries to shake Izumo off. He feels stupid. “You don’t need to babysit me. I’m an adult.”

“I’m not trying to be your keeper; I’m trying to be here for you. If you’d rather sulk by yourself, I can go, but I figured you could use some company.”

The feeling of being stupid increases and Iruka deflates against Izumo. “Sorry. I’m just feeling kinda raw, I guess.”

Izumo squeezes him, then nudges him until they’re both out of bed and heading for the kitchen. “Let’s get some food in you, okay?”

There are scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, coffee, and a massive platter of fruit arranged on the kitchen island, and Iruka falls onto one of the stools and breathes in deeply. Maybe he doesn’t have a great track record for choosing boyfriends, but he sure knows how to make a good friend. He pops a grape into his mouth, then uses a piece of toast to scoop some egg into his mouth without bothering with a plate. Izumo rolls his eyes, then puts cutlery and a plate between where Iruka’s elbows are braced on the countertop. 

“Thanks for breakfast,” Iruka mumbles around his mouthful, brushing crumbs off his face. “Genma texted you about what happened?”

“Yeah,” Izumo says as he plates himself some food and slides onto the other stool. He pours himself some coffee and takes a long swallow before carefully assembling his toast, eggs, and bacon into a relatively dry looking sandwich. “He wanted to know if punching would have been approved. Also, he thinks you’re hot.”

Iruka blushes, and Izumo raises his eyebrows. “You can’t be surprised. He was on his way home with you.”

“I kinda figured he just thought I was easy.”

“Don’t.” Izumo’s voice is firm, bordering on angry. “You sound like  _ him  _ when you say shit like that. Mizuki’s gone; don’t parrot back stuff he used to say and keep yourself tied to him like that. Genma thought you were hot and interesting, and he wanted to start a fight for you but is mature enough to know better. You want his number? You could totally try again.” 

“I dunno...”

“Oh, come on. You liked him, didn’t you? And I know you like an older guy; he’s, like, in his thirties already.”

Iruka’s blush deepens. He knows because he can feel the heat in his face. “How, uh,” he clears his throat. “How in his thirties?”

Izumo’s laughter is warm, wrapping around Iruka like a comforter. He tugs on a strand of Iruka’s hair affectionately when he says, “He’s thirty-three. That’s eight years. Older, but not old. He has a  _ car.  _ He has to rent the parking spot at his building. He must be loaded.”

“Damn, you sound like you’re trying to arrange something more than a hookup.”

“Well, I mean...” The face Izumo makes is somewhere between a leer and thoughtful contemplation.

Iruka shuts that train of thought down immediately. “No. No way. It’s only been a few weeks. I’m not ready.”

“You don’t have to marry the guy, geez. I’m just saying that hooking up with him wouldn’t need to be a one-time thing if it went well, you know? You could use a little good attention, hm?” He’s legit leering, now.

Iruka shoves him, then rips into a piece of bacon. “Don’t look at me like that. You look like Ko.”

Izumo cackles then throws a piece of melon. It bounces off Iruka’s face, and Iruka scowls before retaliating with a blueberry plopped into Izumo’s coffee. When Izumo shrieks, Iruka makes a run for it, laughing.

✽✽✽

The days pass in a hurry, blurring together until it’s three days to Halloween, with Iruka hardly realizing he was sleeping through October. He’s standing at the counter at the bubble tea shop two minutes from his apartment, staring blankly up at the menu and not really seeing anything at all, when he’s grabbed by the shoulders and shaken. 

“My baby boy!” Kotetsu shouts in his ear before Iruka can even freak out. “I haven’t seen you in daaaays.”

“What are you doing here?” Iruka grumbles, plucking Kotetsu’s hands off him and stepping closer to the counter. He looks at the menu with more focus, and he knows that the till staff is looking at him impatiently but, he can’t find it in himself to care. 

“I buzzed at your place, but you didn’t answer, and you were ignoring your phone, so I figured I’d pop in here before I went home and voila, here you are.”

“Uhhhh, can I get a Shanghai Fog, please?” Iruka orders as he digs around in his pockets for the five-dollar bill he knows he grabbed. “Why are you stalking me, Ko?”

_ Stalking.  _ Iruka thinks it and tries not to think it all in the same moment, and he can feel a cold sweat starting to itch on his scalp. He’s given up answering his phone because whenever he gets a notification, it’s Mizuki saying weird shit and trying to get back in the door. Iruka’s close to changing his number, and on the bad nights, he even thinks about moving, but then the futility of it all kicks in. He’s watched hours worth of true crime shows about stalking and come to the realization that Mizuki probably won’t stop. 

He finally pays for his drink and steps to the side to wait for it, and Kotetsu follows him without ordering anything. “Dude, are you okay?” he asks, more serious than Iruka can remember him ever being.

“Yeah, I’m just—” He’s interrupted by a prickly feeling on his neck, so he whips around and stares hard out the window. Someone is walking away, dressed in a dark jacket, and it’s probably nothing, but what if it  _ isn’t  _ nothing? What if it’s—

“Iruka?” Kotetsu is holding Iruka’s drink and staring at him with wide eyes and pressed lips. “I’ll walk you home.”

It’s not that cold out, not yet, but the sunlight is weak and can’t entirely fight off the autumnal fog. Iruka’s in an oversized hoodie and a blanket scarf, and he burrows his nose into the excess fabric as he and Kotetsu walk back to the apartment. When they get inside, Kotetsu sheds his puffy vest as if he’s making to stay awhile, and all Iruka wants to do is evaporate.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come to our Halloween party on Saturday, but now I”m not giving you a choice.” Kotetsu settles on the couch and hugs one of the decorative pillows to his chest as he watches Iruka wander into the kitchen, then the bathroom, bedroom, and back. “Tell me what’s going on?”

Iruka’s cell phone, which has sat abandoned on the coffee table for three days, buzzes aggressively. Iruka doesn’t move to check it, so Kotetsu swipes it and looks at the notification. “What the fuck is this? Mizuki’s still texting you?” When he reads the message, he goes deathly still. “He’s threatening you.”

“Ko, don’t.”

Everyone knows that you can’t tell Kotetsu no, and so the warning falls on deaf ears. Kotetsu unlocks Iruka’s phone and reads the message history, and then he rockets up from his seat. The pillow goes flying with the force of the movement, and then Kotetsu is making a call on his own phone.

“What are you doing? Kotetsu?”

“Giving that prick a piece of my mind, that’s what.”

“You’re calling him? Don’t. Kotetsu!”

“I’m not going to let him talk to you like this, are you kidding? Seriously, you should have told someone. This is stopping right now.” He starts pacing around Iruka’s small living room and grumbling to himself, and Iruka can’t stand the tension. He retreats back into his bedroom and crawls into bed, too tired to feel anything at all. He can hear Kotetsu talking and then shouting, and all Iruka can do is cringe. 

Eventually, everything goes quiet. Iruka gets up to investigate, and he finds Kotetsu sitting on the living room floor. He’s squeezing his phone so hard his knuckles are white. “That guy’s a fucking psycho,” he mutters when he sees Iruka, and Iruka shakes his head and sits down on the floor beside him.

“I thought I could handle it. And now he’s, like, out of control. I’m scared.”

“Stay with me and Zumo. I don’t want you here by yourself.”

“Okay.”

A beat passes, and then Kotetsu stands up. “Okay.” He walks into Iruka’s bedroom and starts packing a backpack, and Iruka just lets him. He doesn’t have the energy for anything else.

✽✽✽

“Fuck,” Kotetsu snaps as he digs through their assigned storage locker in the basement. Iruka and Izumo stand at the door and watch with varying levels of exasperation. “Where the fuck is the costume tote?”

“I’m pretty sure we trashed it when we moved in,” Izumo says. “Since the locker is small, remember?” He lowers his voice and says, just to Iruka, “We wouldn’t have had to if he just got rid of the mountain bike he never uses, but what do I know?”

Iruka snorts, and Kotetsu makes a sound of frustration. “It’s too late to get a costume now! What am I going to do?”

“I don’t think anyone else is going to dress up anyway,” Izumo tries to console, but it just seems to spur Kotetsu on.

“Yeah, because as soon as we all turned twenty-four and got office jobs, you guys became lame!”

“That’s not fair; I don’t have an office job,” Iruka says, and Kotetsu shoots him a glare.

Izumo laughs. “So, what? You’ve got to be fun enough for all of us now? I wouldn’t have hooked you up with your job at  _ city hall  _ with the cushy hours and ridiculously high pay of a  _ government employee  _ if I knew you were just going to shit on everyone there.”

Kotetsu gives up, shifting all the bicycles and snowboarding gear back into their precarious places as he tries to get out of the locker. “Fine, whatever. I’m gonna decorate the shit out of everything, though. I can’t believe you vetoed the pumpkin carving contest, Zu. Lame.”

“Sorry, I don’t want to equip a bunch of drunk people with knives in my home and open myself up to property damage and physical injury, babe. I’ll try to up my coolness factor for next year.”

They bicker playfully all the way back to the 12th floor, and Iruka is half tuning them out and half paying too much attention.

He’s been single, at least sort of, for a month now, and it’s still weird for him. He’d been with Mizuki for the majority of his adult life, even though it was only four years, and he still hasn’t quite managed to keep Mizuki fully at bay. Sometimes, late at night, he answers the phone. Sometimes they argue, but sometimes Mizuki sweet-talks him. Iruka knows it isn’t real, and Mizuki’s just trying to exert control, but...

He doesn’t remember how to sleep alone. 

He never got Genma’s number. Occasionally he thinks about asking for it and shooting him a text, but then he thinks about Mizuki and can’t bring himself to do it. Staying with Izumo and Kotetsu has made it a bit easier; he can’t give in to the temptation to answer the calls as softly as he might because they’re backing him up at every turn. When he wavers, Kotetsu is there to spit venom right back at whatever acid Mizuki might spew, and Izumo thrives when he’s in comfort mode. It’s better than when he was alone at his place, relying only on his inconsistent self-control. But even their company doesn’t quite fight off the loneliness that comes with being  _ alone,  _ and Iruka thinks that’s all the more reason to avoid starting anything, no matter how casual, with someone else.

He’s an adult. He should learn how to be by himself. 

A little voice in the back of his consciousness, snide and mean, asks,  _ how will you do that when you can’t even shake that pathetic ex of yours?  _ but he tries to stamp it down. Mizuki will get bored eventually, and it’ll happen when it happens. 

Izumo herds Iruka out of the elevator and into the apartment while simultaneously using him as a human shield against Kotetu’s playful jabs and pokes, and Iruka tries to force himself to be present, to be  _ here.  _

✽✽✽

No one dressed up.

It’s not a very big party, in fairness, and it  _ is  _ attended mostly by “boring office workers” who aren’t “nearly as fun” as Kotetsu, but still.

Iruka recognizes most of the attendees from that night at The Bottleneck, but he isn’t feeling sociable. He’s holed himself up in the kitchen with a bottle of cider and a bowl of Cheetos, and he can hear raucous laughter and glasses clinking. Kotetsu’s Halloween playlist blares at levels that threaten warranting a noise complaint later, but if they’re not worried about it, then Iruka won’t dwell on it, either. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been hiding out, shoving cheesy puffs into his mouth and staring at the uneven tiling of the kitchen backsplash, but he’s dragged back into the moment when someone else comes into the kitchen and makes an aborted kind of chuckling sound. “Iruka?”

Iruka’s fingertips are heavily coated in orange cheese dust. He doesn’t know how many ciders he’s had, but it must be upwards of three because he can feel the alcohol heat in his chest, so he knows his face is red. He didn’t care enough to dress up nice, so he’s in his lazy, at-home sweatshirt and a pair of baggy jeans. His socks don’t match, and he has no idea what his hair looks like. He wants to sink into the floor and disappear. Instead, he manages to choke out, “Genma, hey.”

They haven’t seen or spoken to each other since that night they almost hooked up, and Iruka knows it was less than a month ago, but it feels like it could have been a lifetime, and he’s a little surprised that Genma still remembers his name.

Genma snags a bottle out of the fridge and then leans up against the stove, across from where Iruka is perched on the counter. “How’ve you been?”

“Um.” He really wants to, like, get the cheese dust off his hand, but he doesn’t want to wipe it on his pants, and he really doesn’t want to lick his fingers. He kind of scoots the bowl of Cheetos off his lap and keeps his hand awkwardly away from himself. “Good! Good. Just trudging through, you know?” He winces. “How about you?”

He shouldn’t be able to tell because he’s kinda drunk, and Genma is a stranger, but he could swear that Genma is looking at him kind of fondly. Genma takes a sip from his drink and then wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Good, good. Just working. Same old shit, different day. Kotetsu mentioned you’re staying here now?”

“Ah, just temporarily. It’s...”

“Your ex still giving you trouble?”

Iruka is nodding before he really decides that he wants to share. He says, “I finally changed my number. We’re trying to find me a new apartment, but everything’s so expensive now.”

Genma hums, and then they sit in silence. The absence of any awkwardness is more prominent than any tangible feeling, and the silence is only silence for the two of them; the apartment is loud, but the air around them feels somehow muted as if they’re in a bubble. Iruka looks at Genma, studies how there are faint laugh lines around his eyes and how he’s clinking a reusable toothpick between his teeth as if he’s found a way to fidget while keeping his whole body still. It’s a small kitchen, and the longer they look at each other, the smaller it seems to get. Eventually, they’re standing nearly nose to nose, and it takes Iruka a moment to figure out how that’s possible. While Iruka was looking right at him, Genma had crossed the floor and surreptitiously slipped himself in between Iruka’s legs. His drink is on the counter beside the snack bowl, and one of his hands is on Iruka’s knee while the other wraps gently around the wrist of Iruka’s cheese dust hand. 

He says, “If you need a hand with him, I have a few ideas.” His voice is low, and his eyes are hooded, and Iruka kind of wants to taste him.

“Like what?” is all he can manage to say, and he nearly dies when Genma puts one of Iruka’s fingers in his mouth and sucks on it. They’re making eye contact the whole time, and when he feels Genma’s tongue wrapping around his finger, it feels like his skin lights up. When Genma decides he’s done, his mouth pops off, and he kisses Iruka’s fingertip. Iruka clears his throat, suddenly feeling parched, and Genma smirks at him and backs off a bit.

“I’m gonna get some air,” Genma says, and then he grabs Iruka’s cider and saunters away.

Stunned, Iruka picks up the bottle Genma abandoned and takes a sip. He can feel his face scrunch up in disgust, so he pours it down the sink, washes his hands, and then decides that he could use a bit of air, too.

✽✽✽

The apartment doesn’t have a balcony, so they put on their shoes and go outside. They sit together on a bench in the courtyard, and Genma flicks a lighter, lighting and extinguishing the flame over and over. Iruka stares at the lick of orange and Genma’s hands and tries not to think about anything at all. 

“For real, though,” Genma says as he flicks the lighter and looks up at the sky. There’s too much light pollution to see any stars. “If you’re legit being stalked, let me know if you need help. I know how to put a guy in his place. That’s kinda my job.” 

“Thanks. I think it’ll be okay now, but I’ll let you know if that changes.”

“So, does that mean I get your number this time?”

Iruka breathes out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, I think so.”

✽✽✽

Iruka’s getting ready for bed when Kotetsu corners him in the bathroom. “So, I noticed you and a certain someone getting pretty cozy tonight.”

Izumo is cleaning up in the living room, and he calls, “Leave him alone, Ko!” from down the hall.

Kotetsu ignores him. “So? Do you have anything exciting to share?”

“Uh, no?” Iruka finishes brushing his hair and splashes some water on his face before trying to scoot around Kotetsu’s larger frame. 

“Nothing at all?”

“I gave him my number?”

“Leave it, Tets,” Izumo groans, leaning his head heavily against the coffee table.

Kotetsu persists. “You gonna lock down a date or what?”

“Drop it,” Izumo and Iruka snap simultaneously, even though Iruka’s blushing. He tells himself it’s because he’s still tipsy.

“That’s not a no!” Kotetsu crows. He makes to run to his bedroom, but he slips on his sock and bangs into the hall wall. Iruka cackles, and Izumo’s sigh can be heard from the other room. 

✽✽✽

It’s the end of November before Iruka finds an apartment that he can afford on his own, and the relief he feels at finally being able to get out of his friends’ space  _ almost  _ outweighs his anxiety about living alone. He’s never lived by himself before, so the apprehension is intense, but it also sort of feels like a kind of milestone.

He’s an adult. He can live by himself. 

At least once he’s in his own place, he won’t have to feel self-conscious about bringing anyone over or explain himself when he goes out. Kotetsu and Izumo weren’t trying to parent him or keep tabs on him or anything like that, but they’re definitely... nosey. He’s already packed up his old apartment, so he’s all ready to go on that front, and he only has a few outfits and his work stuff at Kotetsu and Izumo’s place. 

Where October slipped by in a haze, November drags on. He gets to move into his new place on December 1st, but it feels like it’s been November for three years.

Iruka: I don’t know which moving company I should hire

Genma: Why do you need one? Rent a U-Haul

Iruka: I can’t

Genma: ??

Iruka: None of us drive

Genma: ...FR?

Iruka: For real

Genma: Damn, ok. You move on the 1st? Get the U-Haul. I’ll drive

Iruka: I don’t want to ask you to do that. We can manage

Genma: You didn’t. I’m offering. Seriously, it’ll be way cheaper

Iruka: You can’t actually want to spend your Sunday helping me move

Genma: Why not? It’s a win-win for me

Iruka: Wdym?

Genma: Win 1: get outta the house. Win 2: spend my day with a cutie

Iruka: Pffft

Genma: 😘

✽✽✽

On Sunday, December 1st, it’s raining cats and dogs. Iruka stares out the window and wants to bang his head on the glass. He doesn’t want to put his friends out by making them help him move in the rain, but it’s winter in Vancouver, so he doesn’t have much choice. He hopes they have enough tarps to cover the shit that needs it.

“Gen’s here!” Kotetsu calls out from the foyer, and Iruka shakes himself and heads out there.

“Sorry about this,” he says when he sees how drenched Genma is. “Thanks again.”

Genma’s hair, and the bandana that was covering most of it, are soaking wet. His windbreaker is slicked down almost like a second skin, and his Timbs are dark over the toes. He looks half-drowned, but Iruka’s mouth goes dry when he sees him. Iruka thinks about standing in the worst weather, getting soaked through, cupping Genma’s face in his hands and kissing the shit out of him like that scene in The Notebook. His face erupts in a blush, and Genma catches his eye and smirks.

“My pleasure,” Genma rumbles, and Kotetsu coughs before hightailing it down the hall, muttering something about needing to change his outfit.

Iruka takes a couple steps closer but is careful to not get too close. Genma stays in place to keep from tracking water through the apartment. They don’t break eye contact for seconds that spin out into eternities. “I’m going to have to find a way to thank you,” Iruka murmurs. The grin on Genma’s face shifts from smug to smouldering, and then he catches his bottom lip between his teeth, and Iruka feels like he’s been kicked in the chest.

How Genma can make him feel this way just by standing in the doorway, Iruka doesn’t know. What he  _ does  _ know is that as soon as his bed is set up in his new place, he’s going to try to get Genma into it. 

Something hits Iruka in the head and drapes over his face, and when he pulls at it, he realizes that Izumo’s thrown a coat at him. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?” he says, but he waggles his eyebrows at Iruka to convey the fact that he knows precisely what Iruka’s thinking. 

✽✽✽

It takes them the better part of the day to get all of Iruka’s things from his old apartment and from Kotetsu and Izumo’s place into his new rental. The rain never once lets up, and by the time they’re finished, all four of them are waterlogged and exhausted. “I’ll order pizza,” Iruka says from where he’s laid out on his living room floor, between two piles of boxes and his couch.

“Count us out,” Kotetsu groans. He’s draped limply over Izumo, who looks just about ready to let him fall to the floor. “I just wanna go home, take a hot shower, and get it on with my boyfriend now that we live alone again.”

“Oh my God,” Izumo snaps, pushing Kotetsu off him and snagging his jacket from where it was hung on the corner of a bookcase. “I’m going home. Love you, Ru, see you soon!” Then he storms out, leaving Kotetsu scrambling after him.

Finally, Genma and Iruka are alone. Iruka wants to crawl into Genma’s sweater and share air with him, but there’s still so much to be done. “Pizza?” he asks again, still sprawled out. 

“Sounds good to me. But before we take this any farther, I want to let you know that this might be a deal-breaker for you.”

Iruka jerks himself into sitting up. “Why?”

Genma shrugs, smirks, bobs that little metal toothpick in his mouth. “I’m a pineapple bitch.”

A laugh is startled out of Iruka, and he sags back against the floor in relief. “Oh, is that all? I can put up with a little pineapple now and then. I only order from places that offer sauces that aren’t tomato-based.”

“You don’t like tomato sauce?”

“Not really.” Iruka fishes out his phone and pulls up Maps. “That a problem?”

“Not at all.” Genma hops down from the counter and moves toward the bedroom. “Ham and pineapple is good on anything. You got a toolbox around here? I’m gonna start putting some of your stuff back together.”

“Somewhere,” Iruka calls, focused more on finding a pizza restaurant than on anything else. And then he needs to find where he wrote down his new address. Once that’s done and the food is on the way, Iruka just lays, staring up at the ceiling. He’s exhausted, and part of him is convinced that camping out on the floor for the night wouldn’t be so bad. 

He hears Genma shuffling around in the other room, though, no doubt trying to get the bed frame assembled. Reluctantly, he gets up to offer his assistance, but when he gets to the bedroom, the frame is already done, and the mattress is in place. Genma is carefully peeking into the bedroom boxes, presumably looking for bedding. Iruka sits on the bed and gives it a little bounce. 

They smile at each other, and Iruka holds his hand out. Genma takes it and lets Iruka reel him in until he’s standing between Iruka’s knees and Iruka’s looking up at him. “Thanks for all your help,” Iruka murmurs, his hands coming up to frame Genma’s narrow hips. 

Carefully, Genma pulls Iruka’s hair elastic out and massages his fingers against Iruka’s scalp. It’s maybe too intimate for people who are mostly strangers, but Iruka melts. He leans his forehead against Genma’s belly, pressing his skin against the French terry of Genma’s sweatshirt, and Genma just gently cups the back of Iruka’s head in one of his hands.

Genma’s been quite forward the whole time they’ve known each other, but he’s also been equally gentle and attentive. There’s something novel about knowing what page another person is on, something secure, that Iruka hadn’t realized he’d been missing. After dating such a mercurial personality for so long, he’d forgotten there was comfort in straight-forwardness. 

A tinny, buzzy sound comes from the living room, and Iruka sighs. He’s moved into an older building, so there’s an intercom and a buzzer, but the speaker is broken. All that comes through is audible snow. He gets up and presses the button to open the lobby door, Genma sticking close to his back. “Dinner here already?” he asks, his lips right near Iruka’s ear.

Iruka shivers, and then finally, his composure breaks. They’ve been circling each other, on a knife’s edge of sexual tension, since the first time they met, and Iruka is done playing around. He shoves Genma up against the apartment door and kisses him aggressively, tongue and teeth and desire coming together in a display of dominance that is a little uncharacteristic for him. 

Genma lets him in without complaint, moaning and dragging Iruka closer by tugging on his belt loops and then gripping his ass. He sucks on Iruka’s tongue, and Iruka feels his knees weaken. To retaliate, he grabs a fistful of Genma’s hair and pulls, skewing his bandana and exposing his neck. Then Iruka nips the pale skin under Genma’s jaw, Genma whines, and they both shudder. 

The loud knocking right by their heads startle them, and they break apart with a laugh. Genma ducks under Iruka’s arm and moves more into the living room, and Iruka fishes his wallet out of a nearby tote and opens the door. “You guys are fast,” he says, pulling out his debit card. 

And then he looks up and freezes.

✽✽✽

“Gonna invite me in, Ruka?”

It’s not the pizza guy.

Iruka tries to slam the door, but Mizuki blocks it with his foot and then bullies his way inside, one hand gripping Iruka by the hair at the base of his skull and the other on his hip, steering him back. 

Genma, who had sat down on the floor and pushed some boxes back to make a picnic space, is on his feet in an instant.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Iruka gasps, jerking himself out of Mizuki’s grasp and scrambling away. Genma reaches for him and puts himself between them, and Mizuki snarls.

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” Mizuki’s face looks... scary. He doesn’t look the way he does in Iruka’s memories or in the pictures he didn’t manage to throw away. He’s always been kind of jagged, but his eyes are flinty, and his expression is twisted into a snarl that Iruka hasn’t ever seen before. Even his voice is different; a darker tone, more precise enunciation. If Iruka didn’t know better, he might think this was a stranger and not the guy he spent four years sharing a life with.

Mizuki advances, Iruka retreats, and Genma remains unmoving, acting as a steadfast barrier between them. “Hey man, take it easy. What can we do for you?”

Thinking frantically, Iruka scans the room. He’s got a baseball bat  _ somewhere,  _ but everything is still in disarray, and he doesn’t know where it is. But if he can find it—

“You’re such a fucking slut, Iruka! Who even is this guy, huh? Picked him up in a bar and moved right in with him, dropping me like a hot potato?! Aren’t I anything to you?” He’s screaming, and Iruka is thinking of the neighbours, of the pizza, wondering how Mizuki even managed to find him. His thoughts are racing, and his vision is swimming behind a sudden onslaught of tears. 

“It’s not like that,” Iruka insists, placating and not knowing why. He doesn’t want to placate. He wants to hit Mizuki’s kneecaps with that fucking not-to-be-found bat. 

Mizuki advances again, still spewing bullshit, and Genma steps into his path and physically blocks him. “I suggest that you calm down and back off,” he growls, deadly serious. It’s almost like Mizuki can’t even see him with how focused he is on Iruka. He tries to duck around Genma, but Genma snags him by his jacket’s collar and throws him to the floor. Then he gets on the ground and grapples with Mizuki before he can stand back up. “Call the cops,” he heaves, and Iruka immediately does as he’s told.

As Iruka calls 911 and explains the situation, the buzzer goes off again. Iruka feels a jolt of fear, but he opens the lobby door anyway because he has no way of knowing who it is. The cops already? The pizza guy? Izumo or Kotetsu coming back for some reason? 

There’s a cracking noise, and when he turns around, he sees Mizuki is bleeding from a cut on his forehead, and Genma looks dazed but determined. They continue to struggle until Genma gets in the right position to get Mizuki in a headlock. Mizuki starts scrabbling frantically at Genma’s arms and Genma grunts. “Stay down. I’ll let you go, but you need to stay down!”

Mizuki keeps struggling, so Genma holds on. There’s banging on the door, and Iruka opens it to find two VPD officers. A nervous-looking dude is holding two pizza boxes and a 2L bottle of cola standing a few feet down the hall, checking and double-checking his phone.

✽✽✽

By the time everything is dealt with and everyone else is gone, it’s almost midnight. The pizza has long gone cold, and there’s a headache building behind Iruka’s eyes, but he and Genma are lying together on a freshly made bed, and Genma is massaging his scalp. “I’m sorry about everything,” Iruka mumbles, his eyes closed. 

Genma huffs a soft breath and tugs softly on a strand of Iruka’s hair. “I’m glad I was here.”

“We’re late dropping off the van.”

“It’ll be okay. I’ll return it in the morning.”

They curl up closer together, Iruka’s arms wrapping around Genma’s torso loosely. “Will you stay the night? I’m too tired to do anything but—”

“I know,” Genma interrupts quietly, “that you’re not looking for a relationship right now. But  _ I’m  _ not looking to only spend time with you for sex. I think you’re cool, Iruka, and you make me laugh, and I like looking at you. I’m... really interested in the  _ friends  _ part of  _ friends with benefits.  _ Okay? So if you want me to stay because you’ll feel safer, but you don’t want to fuck, that’s cool. I’m down to cuddle if you are.”

The exhale that escapes Iruka is deep enough that he feels emptied out. His whole body sags into the mattress, any leftover tension from the day dissolving in an instant. He should find the box with his clothes so he can offer Genma some pyjamas or at least sweatpants or something, but he falls asleep with Genma’s fingers in his hair before he can gather enough energy to get up.

✽✽✽

There are no curtains up in the bedroom yet, so when the weak, grey light of winter morning floods in, Iruka stirs. He feels hot and a little claustrophobic, his jeans bunched uncomfortably around his knees and Genma’s arm tight around over his hips. He squirms around and uses his toes to pull off his socks, trying to find some relief, but knows it’s futile. His jeans are uncomfortable in places other than his knees.

Genma is solid against his back, pressed close from shoulder to the knee, and hard against the swell of his ass. He tries to put some distance between them, but Genma is practically clutching at him. Iruka knows he won’t be able to escape without waking Genma up, and he doesn’t want to disturb him, but if he doesn’t get some space, then—

A moan, so quiet it’s barely audible, escapes Genma, and he tugs Iruka back until his hips are pressed firmly up against Iruka’s ass. Iruka sucks in a breath and grinds back, unable to help himself. Groggily Genma chuckles, then mumbles, “Third time’s a charm, hey?”

They wiggle out of their clothes, dropping everything haphazardly over the side of the bed without a care. Nothing except the linens box has been unpacked, so they don’t have condoms or lube, but Iruka is too wound up to think about logistics. Genma climbs carefully on top of Iruka, kissing him on the mouth and then down his neck and chest. “I wanna get my mouth on your dick, and then I wanna eat you out. Good plan?” He presses his words into Iruka’s skin as he travels down, making his intent clear but giving lots of time for Iruka to change his direction.

The thermostat isn’t set quite to Iruka’s liking, and the apartment is still a little cold. They had slept last night under a blanket more suited for spring-time than for winter, and the combination of the chill in the room and the warmth of Genma’s breath on his skin has him breaking out in goosebumps. He’s afraid of what his voice will sound like if he speaks, so he only nods and presses a hand against Genma’s cheek, letting his thumb linger over Genma’s bottom lip. 

Genma’s eyelashes flutter, and he nips Iruka’s thumb playfully before continuing on his downward path. He practically rips Iruka’s jeans open and yanks them off, then shimmies out of his own pants as he sucks bruises into Iruka’s hip bones. “Damn,” he mutters when he finally frees himself and throws his jeans across the room forcefully. “Your skin is so pretty. Not surprised you make boys crazy.”

Iruka laughs, pressing his palms over his eyes. “Am I making you crazy?”

“Unfortunately, I’m well past boyhood. But you’re making me do other things.” And before Iruka can ask  _ like what?  _ Genma takes Iruka’s cock into his mouth and then immediately into his throat.

_ “Fuck,”  _ Iruka gasps, twining his fingers into Genma’s hair and tugging only enough to get Genma to look up at him. 

His eyes are brown but lighter than Iruka’s own; gold and honey, liquid amber. But they darken with desire and mischief, and he locks his gaze on Iruka and sucks hard. Iruka wanted to see him, but he can’t help but arch until he’s staring dazedly at the wall. Genma pushes Iruka’s legs farther apart, gets his shoulders under Iruka’s thighs. He sucks again on Iruka’s dick, bobs his head, and then pulls off. He already sounds a little bit ruined when he says, “I’m gonna have so much fun down here, fuck.” He pets at Iruka’s thigh, then pulls it down closer to him. “Feel free to crush my head.” 

To say Iruka’s startled is an understatement. Startled, but  _ delighted.  _ He hasn’t slept with that many people, and the bulk of his experience was gained with Mizuki. And Genma’s vibe is so vastly different from what Iruka is used to that he almost doesn’t know what to do. Genma is paying him so much attention, lavishing him, and clearly having a lot of fun doing so. Genma does something with his tongue that sends jolts of pleasure up Iruka’s spine, and his legs reflexively squeeze, and Genma groans and presses himself even further down on the cock in his mouth. 

Iruka’s starstruck.

He already feels like he could come any second, and as much as he wants to, he figures he should give Genma a warning. He flexes his thighs around Genma’s head, murmurs, “If you don’t slow down, I’m gonna..” and jolts when Genma switches tasks. His tongue moves from Iruka’s dick, over his balls, and then down even more. 

Genma is eager, so he only licks a couple times before diving right in, and Iruka’s legs box in his ears, and then there’s nothing else in the whole world except this. He moans, pushing his tongue to get as deep as he can, and Iruka scrabbles at the blankets around them, Genma’s hair, his own hair, frantically trying to ground himself. And then there’s a warm hand, large and firm, around his cock, and Iruka can’t fight the onslaught of sensation. “Gen, Gen, I’m—”

Genma doubles down, catches Iruka’s come in his hand, and licks his fingers as he jerks himself off between Iruka’s legs. He comes with a heavy sigh, then collapses onto the bed and presses his face into Iruka’s hip and laughs. “You’re fun,” he murmurs, pleased. “I’ve wanted to get inside you for so long.”

Iruka snorts but wraps some of Genma’s hair around his fingers. “Satisfied?”

“For now.” When Genma looks up at him, he’s grinning.

✽✽✽

They drop the U-Haul back off at the rental place, pick up Genma’s car, and meet Kotetsu and Izumo for a late lunch. “He WHAT?” Izumo shouts, nearly knocking over their pitcher of beer after Genma tells them how Mizuki showed up and proceeded to get arrested. Genma’s arm is draped casually along the back of Iruka’s chair, and he’s been eating more off of Iruka’s plate than his own. Kotetsu watches them with a gleam in his eyes and a smirk.

“So you guys dating, or what?”

Iruka chokes on an onion ring, but Genma just laughs. He pinches Iruka’s cheek and makes a kissy face at him, then says, “Nope. We’re just having a good time and going with the flow, ya know?”

Kotetsu narrows his eyes at them. “Seriously? But—”

“We’ll get there if we get there,” Genma interrupts, pointing at Kotetsu firmly with a Mozza stick. “You know I don’t date for real until I find out if I’m sexually compatible with someone first.” He manages to avoid the kick Izumo sends him under the table, but he can’t escape the elbow to the ribs that Iruka hits him with or the scowl on his face. He laughs again and tugs on Iruka’s ponytail until he sees the frown creep into a smile.

When they finish eating and divvy up the bill, they all head outside and stand around Genma’s car. “We’re all going back to my place to get some unpacking done,” Iruka says, his hands in his pockets and his body angled towards Genma. “If you wanted to join?”

“Ah, I can’t; I gotta get back home and run a couple errands. Have fun, though!” They smile at each other, and then Genma gets into his car. He pulls out of the parking stall but rolls down his window. “I’ll see you around, hey?”

“Definitely,” Iruka agrees. Then Genma drives away, and Kotetsu slings his arm around Iruka’s neck, and the three of them head toward the nearest bus stop.

✽✽✽

Gen: What’re you up to on Friday?

Iru: Nothing planned. What are you doing?

Gen: You, hopefully 👅

Iru: Oh my GOD

Gen: Is that a no?

Iru: ...

Iru: No, it’s not a no

Gen: Cool. You down to grab dinner first tho? I can pick you up

Iru: I’d like that!

Gen: 😘

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to give the biggest shoutout to the Umino Hours server for being so wonderful and welcoming; I've made so many good friends and have laughed so hard these past few months, even though COVID has narrowed my life down to the confines of my apartment. Also, huge thanks to everyone in the server who I've sprinted with while I was writing this and [menecio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/menecio) for creating this absolutely _brilliant_ edit for me!


End file.
